Turnabout's Fair Play An In Plain Sight Fanfic
by SherokuTakari
Summary: Mary and Marshall are due in to help a new witness, "as per their job descriptions", and are assigned to a four week, armed-to-the-teeth protection detail. But what will happen when our witness seems to be someone besides who he claims he is?
1. Another Day, Another Witness

**Disclaimer: I do not own IPS, Mary, Marshall, Stan, etc, etc. Much as I'd like to...**

A/N: Started working on this a week or so before the new season aired, and another fic recently got me to get a account, so I figured I'd put it up. School's kept me kinda busy, but I'll update as often as I can ;)

So before you get your hope up here's a lil bit about how my fic is going to play out **CONTAINS REAL-STORY SPOILERS! DON'T READ IF YOU'RE NOT UP-TO-SPEED IN THE SHOW!**

**1.** I am a MaryxMarshall fanatic. It WILL, mostlikely, happen in my fic.  
**2.** Now that Mary and Raph have OFFICIALLY broken up IN-SHOW, that saves me the trouble, and Raph may not end up in my fic at all. Sorry, Raph lovers.  
**3.** If Raph shows up, it will to be with Brandi. But I'm not sure ANYONE could ever make that NOT awkward, Mary-wise, so probably still a no-no  
**4.** IT WILL BE GORY AT POINTS. I'm sorry, but that's how it is in my brain, so that's how it will be in text.  
**5.** I'm bringing Elenor back. Suck it.  
**6.** ALLISON PIERSON WILL EITHER NOT EXIST, DIES, OR BE TRANSFERRED. I've NEVER hated a character as much as I do her.  
**7.** I'm sorry, but Faber doesn't exist in my brain. Period.

* * *

**In Plain Sight –Turnabout's Fair Play – Part I**

**Albuquerque, New Mexico  
Three Months Ago**

"You got the coffee this time?"

"Like you would drink it if you had to pay." Marshall said with a smirk.

Mary stood against her half ajar car door, a pensive look on her face. "Fair enough."

Closing the door, United States Marshal Mary Shannon followed her partner into the local Starbucks.

-beedle-deeee- ... -beedle-deeee-

Half-in, half-out of the door, Mary stopped to check her phone. Rolling her eyes at the ID, she swiftly punched the "End" key.

"Your mom again? The usual, please." Marshall asked, doling out dollar bills to the cashier. Turing back to Mary he said "Four times in the past hour, must be serious."

"It's not serious. It's _never_ serious." Exasperated, she put a hand to her forehead and rubbed. "Of all days, why does she have to pick _today_ to bug me at _work_, too?"

beedle-deeee- ... -beedle-deeee-

Growing ever more annoyed with her mother, she pulled out her phone and hung it up again.

Used to her fuming, but a bit confused, Marshall asked "What's so important about today?"

"Wh-" Mary started, looking at the befuddled look on her partner's face "Wait, you're serious? Don't you understand the witness we have coming in today?"

"Of course I understand. I understand he's just another run-of-the-mill bad guy, determined to extend his life by turning in his boss and co-workers. I understand he's vital to bringing down one of the largest drug rings in the western United States, as well as the fact that his safety, as per our job descriptions, is nigh our sole purpose in life for the next four weeks. What I can't understand," He paused, handing Mary her coffee and bringing his own to his lips, "is why this witness has... so curiously piqued your interest."

"Jesus, Marshall, this isn't just another lowlife, he's one of the biggest players in the ring. He's the guy that managed to make all of LAPD look like a pack of shaking chihuahuas, without even being in the state. I mean he was actually here. In New Mexico, and those little poodles couldn't sniff out a trail to follow!"

"I thought they were chihuahuas."

Mary shrugged "Point is, for 'just another run-of-the-mill bad guy' the guy has some serious cojones, and even I can respect that kind of power."

Marshall smiled jokingly and held the door open, following Mary with a smirk as she passed "There is a fine line between respect and envy."

-beedle-deeee- . . . -beedle-deeee-

Aggravated, she answered her phone, not bothering to look at the screen. "I don't want to talk to you! God, why the hell do you think I've been hanging up every time I see your number on my screen? I swear, you call this number one more time, I'm changing my name and..." She put her hand over the mouth piece, turning to Marshall, "Where do people threaten to move to when they already live in Albuquerque?"

"I dunno but," Shrugging again, Marshall pointed to the phone. "You might want to recant that little statement..."

"Inspector?" The voice from the phone called.

Swiftly, Mary mouthed "oops" and returned to her call, smiling a bit. "Heyyyyy, Stan, what's up?" Suddenly, her grin turned into a grimace. "Right," she said, glancing at Marshall, "We're on our way."

Following a now on-the-move Mary out the door, Marshall jogged to meet Mary at the car. "What's going on?" He asked, concerned at the attitude change the phone call from their boss invoked.

"Someone's been shot." Opening the car door, she slammed the key into the ignition and shoved her coffee cup into the cracked holder, knowing instantly she wouldn't have a moment's rest today to drink it.

* * *

**Albuquerque Federal Marshal Service Building**

"They were scheduled to make a stop here. They arrived..."

-bkz-AAAAANG- Mary and Marshall entered through the noisy security door to the even noisier office.

"Ah, good, my inspectors are here." Stan waved them over to where the group of other busy inspectors stood huddled over a map. "Fill them in, would you John?"

"Right away, Chief." Replied the thin, dark inspector with an American accent so perfect one would never have guess he'd moved to the United States from Jamaica only three years ago. "As I was saying," He began as Stan was called to another table, "The caravan transporting the witness, Alvin Kerowich, was scheduled to make a stop here," he jabbed at a corresponding point on the map "before arriving here in Albuquerque later this afternoon."

"They never showed?" Marshall asked, glancing across the table.

"No, they showed." He said with apprehension, "But when they arrived, Kerowich was driving... with two Marshals in the back, out cold."

Mary sighed "Was he able to tell you the location of the shooting?"

"That's the thing," John replied, "The shooting happened at the gas station." Carefully, he gave Mary a grave look. "He says the Marshals just 'passed out'."

"Poison?" Mary asked.

"That's our working theory, but..."

"But... what?" Marshall inquired, angling a falcon-like stare at the Marshal.

"If someone went as far as to figure out the route for witness transportation of a high-security witness and drug the attending escort Marshals, why didn't they use enough poison to kill them? Why not finish the job?"

"Well let's focus on what we do know." Marshall interjected, pointing again to the map, "You said the shooting happened here? At the gas station?"

"Yes sir, ten minutes after they arrived. The Inspectors standing by at this checkpoint had just removed Kerowich from the car, and were tending to the two in the back when the first shot was fired."

"The first?"

"Of seven, sir. No fatalities, luckily." The young man opened a file, "The two in the back were at the time still protected by the armor of the vehicle. The others didn't get off so nicely. Inspector Mallen was hit twice, once it the right shoulder, one through the same arm. Inspector Skyland twice in his left leg, one in his gut. They removed the slugs and he's in ICU now, stabilized."

"And our star witness? Don't tell me..." Mary prodded as Marshall spun the file so they could read it.

"Nary a scratch on him." He reported, turning to her. The other Marshal watched submissively, trying his best to stand tall.

"Right, sir. The other two slugs have been removed from the body of the vehicle, and have been sent to forensics."

"Geez," Mary sighed heavily, shifting her weight and placing her hands on either side of the file. "Alright, where's our witness now?"

The Inspector on the other side of the table froze up a bit at the question. "He's... in a secure location, ma'am."

Mary grunted a bit in disbelief. "C'mon, guy, I don't have all day. He's _my_ witness so-"

"Technically he's _my_ witness." Marshall commented with his usual look of bemusement and indifference, "My case and all."

Rolling her eyes, she continued at a heightened tempo, "Okay, _his_ witness, but hey, let's be honest, that basically makes him my witness,"

"Hey, now..."

"So you can either tell me where he is and we can get to solving this thing a bit faster, or we can sit here and pretend like nothing's going on and shine each other's heads until our shooters decide that 'Hey, we missed out on killing the Marshals the first go-round, but maybe we'll have better luck if we shoot up the tiny fed building. I mean, come on, they have all their officers and inspectors in one, crowded area, it'll be like a shooting range!' Gimme a break."

John looked around nervously, stepping a little in place. "He's in a warehouse here." He said, "Chief Inspector McQueen told me you two are the best at what you do, so..." He looked over his shoulder, making sure no one was listening. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind having you two on the scene." He gave them a charming wink and walked away, "accidentally" leaving the map in their possession.

**Part I End**


	2. Which Witness is Which?

**Sorry about the super long wait! You have no IDEA how busy it's been (I know, excuses, excuses .)**

**I'll try and upload more frequently, but my muse has been shifting over to White Collar frequently, so please bear with me…**

**Oh, and I don't own Mary, Marshall, Stan, In Plain Site, M/M or anything but the random miscellaneous characters in this fic. Unfortunately.  
**

* * *

**IPS – Turnabout's Fair Play – Part II**

"C'mon, hurry up. How long can it possibly take you to take a turn?" Mary ranted as she sat shotgun in the company Kia.

"This is exactly why I'm driving. Our witness is in capable hands, he's safe. Your driving would just get us a speeding ticket, which-" He continued over the start of a protest, "which, would only serve to delay us further. Speed limits are limits for a reason."

"Yeah, but breaking just such limits is one of the perks of being law enforcement."

Marshall turned his head and gave her a look.

"Please?"

Turning back to the road, Marshall pressed the gas a little bit, making the speedometer jump exactly 1 mph.

Mary rolled her eyes and leaned her head against the headrest, glaring defeatedly out the window. "You irk me."

"I live to irk."

"You live to something, alright."

Marshall grinned at his victory and drove on.

In a matter of minutes the Kia pulled up to the warehouse. "Oh come on..." Mary complained, "Does this not scream 'Here's the witness' to anyone else but me?"

The warehouse itself was fine, but it was easy to see what had made Mary so upset. Posted at each door were two guards, all wearing USMS bullet proof vests and caps. The side door was much more heavily guarded, four guards as well as two company vehicles parked -defensively, of course- near-by.

"If so," Marshall said, cutting the power and stepping out of the car, "it apparently falls on deaf ears."

The Marshals began walking forward and were stopped by a guard a few feet from the door. "Identify yourselves."

Marshall held his badge up to the nearest Marshal "Inspectors Shannon and Mann, we're here about or witness."  
The guard waved them in in a very official fashion, closing the door behind them.  
Mary rolled her eyes and walked past another guard posted just past the threshold "Bang up job guys, way to be inconspicuous."

"Inspectors, if you will." The Marshal at the door said, ignoring Mary's comment and gesturing into the room. "He's this way." He stopped outside another door, which appeared to be locked "Have you read the file?"

Mary held up the file and smiled an exasperated, sarcastic smile.

"Good, so you're up to speed."

"Wouldn't be here if we weren't, Tom."

"It's Joseph, ma'am."

"I like Tom."

"I'd go with Tom, if I were you." Marshall chimed in, giving him a 'just so we can get on with it', apologetic shrug.

Joseph looked flustered for a second, then unlocked the door. "Here we go," he said, not noticing the surprised look on either of the Marshals' faces as the door opened. "One Alvin Kerowich. He's been instructed to stay here for the time being but if you-"

"Damn it." Mary said, recovered from her surprise. She turned on her heel and marched back out of the room, whipping out her cell.

"What just happened?" Joseph asked, confused and a bit offended.

Marshall grabbed a photo out of his back pocket and held it out to Joseph. "This," he said, waving the photo in front of the Marshal, "is Alvin Kerowich." The photo showed a mugshot of a man with short, post-shaven dark hair and a hole from a piercing above his left eye. The man sitting in the room had same length, maybe a little longer blond hair, and with no easily recognizable piercing marks.

The suited-up Marshal jolted back in surprise, looking back and forth between the picture and he stranger in the room. "No, that's impossible, our files have a photo with-"

"Yeah, okay, then _clearly_ your files are wrong." Mary said as she stomped back to the gathering, clipping her phone into its holder. She sighed heavily and rubbed her forehead, "Alright," she said, opening her file, "let's backtrack, see where you guys screwed up." She glared up at the Marshal.

"What she means," Marshall interjected before the other Marshal could retort, "Is that we should backtrack through the timeline, see who may have had access to the system, see where the file could have been changed, how many times and were it changed hands..."

"No" the Marshal said, "No, the only time it was left alone was when Kerowich drove up to the gas... station..." He trailed off, the realization dawning on him.

"Wait. You mean the file, the _primary file_, was in the car with a witness, with a known _criminal_?" Mary accused more than asked, "When did you receive these files?"

"Just as the witness came under our watch but-"

"You were just given the files after the two Marshals transporting the witness had been knocked out, the two reciprocating Marshals were shot, _and_ your witness drove _himself_ to the meeting location, and your flunkies didn't even _consider_ that this might not even be the right freakin' person? God, how is it we ever manage to get _any_ of our witnesses like this?" She asked rhetorically, turning a ticked-off look to Marshall, hoping for confirmation.

Marshall, however, had his eagle eyes laser focused on the file another Marshal had just brought them. "Look at this" he commented to Mary. The file was nearly identical- the names of the Marshals, the handwriting- everything but the photo and personal description were dead-on-course with the file in Mary's hand.

Joseph looked nervously from one file to the other, and to the Inspectors in front of him. "What's happened? What's this mean?"

Mary rolled her eyes and jumped in head first, "It means, _Joseph_, that my witness is back on the street, on his way back to his drug lord and the organization he works for to go tell them exactly what's happened, and let's face it, chances are good that even though he hasn't testified yet, his boss knows that at least a statement was given to make him even be eligible for WITSEC, which means he probably won't take him back anyway. And if that's _not_ the case, then he's been kidnapped and taken against his will, and is either dead, waiting to be killed, or is- at the very least- vulnerable." Mary leaned back into the file, glancing up only to glare.

"I'll go call the FBI and the local PD." The upset and now rather uncomfortable Marshal decided. "It's best they're up to date on the new development."

"You think? God..."

"Hey," Marshall started as Mary simmered, "We still have this guy," He gestured to the man in the lone chair beyond the threshold with his thumb. "and if he's somehow Kerowich's replacement, it's likely he'll know a thing or two about what's going on."

Mary straightened herself and sighed heavily, her blonde hair moving with the current. "Alright, I already notified Stan, and he says he backs whatever we decide to do."

"You realise, of course, that doesn't mean you can torture him."

Mary laid her hand on the door, "I think we should leave it up to interpretation. Hey, asswipe." She burst through the door with a semi-reluctant Marshall on her heels. The man in the chair jumped and started to speak, but Mary cut him off. "Before we get started let me explain something to you. Usually in situations like these... Well, let's face it, this situation just doesn't come around that often, so here's how this is going to work: I'm going to say 'Hello, I'm Inspector Marshal Mary Shepard' and you, are going to answer with an equally polite response who you are. Let's give it a try, shall we?"

Marshall smirked at the "witness'" confused and startled face.

"Hello, I am Inspector Marshal Mary Shepard, and who, may I ask, are you?"

The man stirred in his seat, visibly sweating at his temples. "What is this about? Are you my Inspectors?"

"Now, the lady asked you a question, my friend, and if you want to avoid a bullet penetrating the thin bone layer of your skull, I suggest you give her a brief and respectful answer." Marshall said, a hint of condescension in his voice.

"I'm... Alvin Kerowich" The man replied quickly, nervously eying the gun in Mary's holster.

"Aant. Wrong answer." Mary slapped the file down on the arm of the chair. "So here's the deal. I'm going to say 'You're not Alvin, are you?' And you'll say...?"

"I-I'm... Kyle Adama..."

"Good boy! Now for the next part of our quiz," Mary turned to Marshall, who didn't miss a beat.

"Where is the real Alvin Kerowich?"

"I don't know, man. I think he's still in Vegas..."

Marshall shot Mary a quizzicle look. "Vegas?"

"I thought he was in state when the FBI picked him up?" Mary looked at the file again and confirmed it. Pensive, Mary asked Marshall for the photo he had and showed it to Kyle. "Have you seen this man before?"

Unsure of what might be the right answer, Kyle nodded his head. "Y-yeah, of course."

Mary's shoulders visibly relaxed, but the man continued on. "That's Arthur Stevens. He's one of the lowers in the organization."

The Marshals exchanged a look, and both were up and out of the room in an instant.

Part II End

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